My longing gaze
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Set after Connie left the ED to seek treatment for her addiction.With Connie unable to tell them, Sam and Grace learn from Charlie what has really been going on. Strachamp. I do not own the characters.


**Sam**

It took too long. She took too long – and I couldn't stand to be so near her when she just pushed me away. The way I left was wrong – I'll admit that. It was cruel. It was harsh. It was heartless – and I'm not surprised by how angry she was. The way I lied to Grace was also wrong, but it was the only way I could get her to leave – and I had to leave. I had to. Grace was more than happy to go back to New York. I didn't force her. She missed her friends and since the accident, she'd been to hell and back. She needed a change, so she wanted to go, but she would not have gone without her mother's blessing and I knew she'd miss her terribly. That's why, when I booked the cabin, I agreed to invite Connie. Grace begged me, so I agreed – but I was dreading it.

I left because I didn't want to see Connie again – or rather, I wanted her too much, but once I'd made that move, I knew that was it. I could see no way back for us – for Connie and I.

Connie never came to the cabin. I was annoyed about that because she never explained – at least not satisfactorily. It just seemed like she didn't care and so I let myself be angry with her. I let Grace be angry at her and she refused to have anything to do with her mother but I should have known that there was a good reason. Little did we know that we almost lost Connie for good, not once, but twice – maybe even more times. She didn't abandon us. We abandoned her.

When Charlie turned up on our doorstep while Grace was at school, I tried not to let him in – and even though I did eventually, I didn't want to listen.

"Connie's sent you to do her dirty work for her, has she?" I spat furiously at the older man. "She can't even be bothered to come and see her daughter."

"Connie has no idea that I'm here." He hissed back through gritted teeth, looking uncharacteristically like he wanted to slap me. "I've left my wife back home being looked after by carers and friends she hardly recognises any more to come here, so you are going to bloody sit down and listen if it kills you Sam."

That shut me up, I can tell you. I've never heard Charlie swear before and I had no idea that Duffy's health had got that bad.

"Connie has accepted that neither of you want anything to do with her. She has accepted that she's lost you both, but she's like a daughter to me and I can not just sit back and watch while she loses the will to carry on. The events that have prevented her from seeing you were not all of her making and she is a shadow of her former self." He carried on. "By her own admission, Connie no longer recognises the person she's become."

That really shocked me. Surely, we couldn't be talking about Connie Beauchamp? I sat down and found myself unable to speak a word, as Charlie revealed to me the unknown horrors of what Connie's life had been like since we left: the whole situation of her cancer, which resonated most strongly with me having been through my own cancer fight, the attack on her by a patient's relative and subsequent Post-traumatic stress disorder, and painkiller addiction. She's been through so much and she must have been so lonely. I understood then why she had been unable to come and see us, or even to stay in regular contact. Unable, not unwilling.

Courage I'm sorry to say, completely deserted me when Grace came back from school and Charlie agreed to stay and help me talk to Grace. I knew I had to tell her everything. It was the only way she would accept Connie again after the lies I had told her, so I told her the truth, including the real way we left Holby City.

There was a lot of shouting and screaming from her – mostly about my betrayal to both her and Connie, and about how she nearly lost her Mum. I very worried in case her distress set off her epilepsy but thankfully, Charlie kept stepping in to calm her down. I don't know if she will forgive me. She said she will 'if and when her Mum does' and 'the only reason she is still talking to me at all is because she didn't have the money to come to England without me.'

Now here we stand in front of that familiar front door I never wanted to see again and my longing gaze bores through it, desperate to give comfort to Connie Beauchamp, but I know that probably she will pull Grace through the door and slam it in my face.

I made my bed and now I must lie in it.


End file.
